The Wizard of Odd
by NeitherSparky
Summary: Torpedo dreams herself as Dorothy and visits the Land of Oz.
1. Chapter I

_A note for those of you (most of you) who don't know: the main character in this story is an original character, a teenaged girl - species: Arctic tern - named Evelyn. She is an 'apprentice' villain, and goes by the name Torpedo, which yes, she agrees is stupid. (See my fic 'Bearly Getting It' for her origin story.) She's kind of a sarcastic kid. She wasn't invented by me but rather by a friend of mine back in high school, but I took rather a liking to her. Anyways, at the time of this story, she is hanging out at Quackerjack's place. That's about all you need to know about her. :) The raccoon character near the end of the story is one of my own creations, Persuasion, a villainess. You don't really need to know anything about her, so don't worry about it. - Sparky _

**The Wizard of Odd**  
_by  
Cynthia "Sparky" Read  
Chapter I_

Torpedo kicked the broken dishwasher. "Why do I have all the luck?" she complained to herself, then resolutely began washing the dishes by hand.

While she appreciated the silence generated by Quackerjack's absences, it _did_ make for dull afternoons. Oh well. She'd just do what she normally did - read.

There was only one problem with that: she'd already read everything she owned at least a dozen times over, and she wasn't about to go up to the street above to buy a new book. There was only one thing left to do.

Torpedo shuddered at the thought.

As she entered Quackerjack's study, she tried to reassure herself. "It's only literature," she thought. "Nothing to be nervous about."

But she _was_ nervous. She was terribly nervous at the prospect of reading a book from Quackerjack's private library. Not that she didn't want to pry into his _things_, no - she just didn't want to subject herself to anything that might switch _her_ mentality to _his_.

"Hmm...Pinocchio...Alice in Wonderland...every Dr. Suess imaginable...Something called Maus...The Wizard of Oz - Oh, hey, neat! Wizards! That might not be too bad."

So she pulled The Wizard of Oz down from its shelf, and looked around for a suitable place to read it. She finally decided on the toy workroom, as it wasn't too dusty, and climbed up on top of an oversized alphabet block. She settled down and began to read the Prologue, which was written by some obscure magazine columnist:

_This story begins in the heart of the Dust Bowl, more specifically, Kansas. It involves a poor country girl and her adventures in a magical land - _

"Yucch!" screamed Torpedo, pushing the book away. "'Dust Bowl'? 'Kansas'? 'A poor country girl'? _Boring!_" She settled herself more comfortably on the block. "I'll skip to the 'magical land' part. Ahem."

She flipped ahead a few pages and began where the color illustrations did. She settled herself even more comfortably on the block, and soon she was so comfortable that she wasn't quite sure just what she was reading anymore and what she was dreaming...

A sudden jarring of the giant alphabet block woke the tern up with a start. She sat up and looked around in alarm.

The block looked the same, at least, but the toy workroom sure didn't. It had metamorphosed into a rolling countryside, complete with fruit trees sporting merrily chirping songbirds, and flowers grew positively everywhere.

What had happened? Torpedo tugged on her braid in frustration. This was definately weird. She tugged on her other braid.

_Other_ braid..?

Obviously her surroundings weren't the only things that had changed in appearance.

Torpedo screamed. For, horror of horror, her wetsuit had disappeared, only to be replaced with -

"I _hate_ gingham!" - Yes, a blue-and-white checked gingham frock and matching white apron. A brief examination with her hands revealed to the tern that her hair was now divided into two braids, one on each side of her head (although she still wore her trusty diving goggles).

"I look like a hick!" Torpedo stomped furiously around on top of the block. "Oh, and I bet I have freckles, too!"

"Excuse me," called a man's voice from below, "but I wish you wouldn't do that - its making the mess down here bigger."

Torpedo arrested her tirade and looked over the edge of the block. The eggman standing on the ground below took off his floppy blue hat and waved it at her. He cupped one hand around his bill and shouted: "Thanks, kid. We's appreciate it, really."

"'We'?" Torpedo asked blankly.

Three other eggmen stepped around the corner of the block to stand next to the one who had spoken.

"I've never seen an eggman dressed in blue before," Torpedo had to comment.

"Hey! Who you callin' an eggman?" demanded the largest of the agents. "We's _Munchkins!_ An' blue looks real spiffy on you, too!"

"Aw, shet up!" screamed Ammonia Pine, whacking the tall Munchkin over the head with a plumber's helper as she arrived on a giant soap bubble. She patted the plunger affectionately when she was done. "Ha! That'll teach ya to make fun of a good clean color like blue!"

The Munchkin sniveled and rubbed his dented helmet without further comment.

Pine looked up at Torpedo. "Well, whaddya gawkin' at, ya hick?"

The tern closed her gaping bill with a snap. "I am _not_ a hick!" She jumped down off the block and stormed over to the F.O.W.L. agent in a huff. "Let's see what you call me after you've been _chlorinated_, you bigmouthed - " Torpedo stopped short upon realizing that her squirt-gun had gone the way of her wetsuit. She forced a smile. "Oops," she managed.

Ammonia Pine wrinkled her bill in disgust. "You farmer kids are all alike: dirty! And I see the prop department hasn't been doing its job again...here, you'll need this." She pulled a large wicker basket out of her apron and tossed it to Torpedo, then turned back to the Munchkins. "Now, where's this 'filthy mess' you were complainin' about?"

Torpedo followed the Munchkins as they led Pine around to the other side of the block. The agent screeched in horror at what she saw.

"What a _disgusting_ mess!" she exclaimed. "And all I brought was an XL-400 squeegie! Now I'll have to go back for reinforcements! You stay here!" she ordered the Munchkins.

"Um...excuse me..." Torpedo stepped forward quickly before the agent could blow another soap bubble and float away again. "...But can you tell me the way to the nearest service-station? I seem to need some directions."

Ammonia Pine looked down at her in pity. "Poor child," she said, softening. "No direction in life, huh? Well, I think I know of someone who can help you." She took Torpedo by the arm and led her to the edge of a row of hedges. "Look through there," the agent said.

Torpedo peered through the foliage. Beyond it lay a road that seemed to be covered with some kind of paper.

"What's that?" Torpedo asked.

Pine looked at her gravely. "That's contact paper, hon," she told the tern. "Keeps the pavement from getting scuffed. Yellow brick doesn't come cheap these days, you know." Pine looked down at Torpedo's feet. "Oh, figures!" she exclaimed. "None of you country kids ever wear shoes! Well, that won't do! I can't let you walk on that good clean paper like that! Wait here."

Ammonia Pine turned and went back to the block. She came back in a moment carrying two silver objects. "Put these on," she told the tern.

Torpedo looked at the objects blankly. "Birkenstorks?"

"Yeah! They don't scuff." Pine watched carefully as Torpedo put the shoes on. "Now, this here road will lead you straight to the great Wizard of Oz. He'll give you some direction in life."

Torpedo still felt lost. "What's Oz?"

The agent stretched out her arms. "This whole place is Oz, hon. Right now you're in the Land of the Munchkins."

"Are...are _you_ a Munchkin?"

Pine shook her head. "Not me, babe. I'm the Good Witch of the North."

"Oh, right." Torpedo looked at the Silver Birkenstorks. "Whose are these, then?"

"Those? They're the sole (heh heh) property of the Wicked Witch of the East, but don't worry about returning them."

"Why not?"

The Witch of the North shrugged. "Well, remember that big mess back there under your block?"

Torpedo gasped. "You mean..?"

The Good Witch nodded. "Splat," she supplied. "Incedentally, do you have a license to drive one of those things?"

Torpedo shook her head numbly. What a day this was turning out to be! This was certainly the last time she would ever delve into a book that rated twenty-three on the Most Likely To Become a Famous Musical list.

"Oh, and by the way," put in the Good Witch, stepping forward, "the trip to the Emerald City where the Wizard lives is pretty demanding. There are all kinds of nasty things on the way that would love to snatch you up and fricasee you for supper. But with this magic seal, none will dare to harm you."

And with that the Witch took up her plumber's helper and drove the suction-cup end of it into Torpedo's forehead.

"Hey - watch it!" screamed the tern, struggling against the pull of the plunger. "Let me go!"

The Good Witch yanked, and the cup released Torpedo with a pop.

The tern reached up and felt her forehead, and discovered there a round shiny mark. "Oh, my god," she grumbled, "I've been sanitized, just like a toilet."

"Yeah!" agreed the Good Witch empathatically. "Now none of those vicious animals will touch you. Everybody knows that uncivillized creatures don't like to break those seals."

Torpedo chose not to comment, so instead she bade farewell to the Good Witch and the Munchkins, and started on her way.


	2. Chapter II

_Chapter II_

Torpedo followed the road paved with contact paper to a cornfield, where she stopped to rest.

She perched herself on the fence that separated the road from the field and opened the basket the Witch of the North had given her. It contained a quantity of bread and cheese, and a little jar of no-scuff silver shoe polish. Satisfied that she had just what she needed for her journey, she closed the basket.

She thought she heard a rustling in the cornstalks behind her, but upon turning around she discovered that there was nobody there but a Scarecrow, stuck up high on a pole. There was no one who could have made the rustling there except for a lone yellow crow that perched on the suffed man's shoulder, but as it remained perfectly motionless, she decided that it must have been stuffed also, and turned away.

Torpedo presently heard the rustling again, and this time when she turned around, she observed the Scarecrow scratching furiously at his neck. She saw her looking at him in bewilderment, and he hastily explained: "I should have asked for hay instead of straw. It doesn't itch so much."

Torpedo crossed the fence and stood before the Scarecrow. "You're...alive?" she ventured.

"Of course I'm not alive," replied the Scarecrow, propping his arms up on the horizontal slat that was lashed onto the pole for that very purpose. "I'm a scarecrow."

"I can see that." Torpedo frowned. "You look awfully familiar...Aren't you dressed a bit much like a jester to be an effective scarecrow?"

The Scarecrow turned up his bill in disdain. "An effective scarecrow in today's crow-scaring market needs to be innovative," he informed her. "I've found that jinglebells do the job quite nicely."

Torpedo nodded at the crow on the stuffed man's shoulder, and pointed out: "They don't seem to have worked on that one."

The Scarecrow fidgeted. "Ah, yes, well...This particular crow seems to be a bit hard of hearing." He shook his head fiercely, making quite a racket with the jinglebells on his jester's hat. The yellow crow just continued to stare straight ahead and grin toothily. The Scarecrow sighed. "What I need is a foghorn," he declared.

"What you need is a brain," mumbled Torpedo in disgust.

"Ah, a brain!" The Scarecrow perked up a little. "It _would_ be nice to have one of those, wouldn't it? Where do you suppose I could get one?" He didn't wait for Torpedo to answer. "By the by," he continued, "who are you and where are you going? I don't get many chances to meet anyone way out here."

The tern decided that there was no harm in telling the Scarecrow her name and destination. "My name is Torpedo," she informed the stuffed man, "and I am going to see the great Wizard of Oz to ask him to give me some direction in life."

"You're going all the way to the Emerald City?" the Scarecrow asked, astounded. "Won't that take a while?" Again, he didn't wait for an answer to his question. "Do you suppose the Wizard could give me a brain?"

Torpedo grunted. "He'd have to penetrate that thick skull first...but he _is_ a wizard, so maybe he can." She paused. "I suppose now you're going to ask if you can go with me."

"Ask to go with you?" The Scarecrow brightened. "That's a good idea."

"Come on, then," Torpedo said, giving in. As things were already so odd, she concluded that a walking, talking scarecrow accompanying her to the Emerald City would not be so bad. She reached up and lifted the Scarecrow easily off his pole - as he was stuffed with straw, which made him quite light - and set him on the ground.

The Scarecrow stumbled around for a moment before gaining his balance, and Torpedo had to hold his arm to keep him from falling flat on his face.

"Thank you," said the stuffed man gratefully.

Torpedo couldn't help being a bit concerned. "Are you all right?" she asked him.

"Oh, I will be," answered the Scarecrow, "if there aren't any mice around."

"What's the matter with mice?" Torpedo had to know.

"Well," explained the Scarecrow, "I'm made of straw, and mice like to make their nests in straw. I was never afraid of being made into mouse nests before, because I was up on that pole, but now that I'm down here on the ground..." He looked at Torpedo questioningly. "Do you think there might be mice around here?"

Torpedo shrugged. "Field mice maybe," she said. "This _is_ a field."

The Scarecrow became nervous. "Oh, dear," he said. "What we need is a mouser...small dogs make good mousers. Do you have a dog?"

Torpedo spread her arms out helplessly. "Do I _look_ like I have a dog?"

The Scarecrow eyed her reproachfully. "You ought to have a dog," he stated.

Torpedo sighed. "I suppose it's the fault of the props department that I don't have one."

"Well, here." The Scarecrow reached up his sleeve and pulled out a small stuffed toy dog mounted on the end of a wooden dowel that measured about a yard long. He offered it to Torpedo, who took it gingerly. She held the stick out before her with the dog resting on the ground. It didn't look very lifelike.

"Push the button on the handle," the Scarecrow told her when she shot him a withering look.

Torpedo found the small trigger-like button, and pushed it. The dog squeaked and gave a little hop forward.

"Oh, you can't be serious!" wailed the tern.

"What's the matter? It's a fine mouser. Here, let me take that basket for you."

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

The road continued on past the cornfield, and entered a dark wood bordering a swift stream.

When Torpedo paused at the edge of the trees, the Scarecrow became concerned. "Is there something wrong?" he asked her.

"No," answered the girl, "but the road goes straight into this forest."

"If the road goes in, it must come out again," responded the Scarecrow, "and if the Emerald City is at the other end of the road, we need to follow it."

"Anybody would know that," said Torpedo. "Even someone without a brain. Well, then, let's go in."

After only a few paces into the forest, Torpedo could not help noticing a small cottage at the edge of the road, built simply, out of logs and branches.

"It's a bit close to the road, don't you think?" remarked the Scarecrow. "The fellow that lives in there must get awfully tired of hearing people tromp by all afternoon."

"Uh-huh." Torpedo kicked a path for herself in the leaves that covered the obviously long-ago disused contact-paper-covered road. "Well, he must be fuming by now."

"Unnnnh."

Torpedo looked up at the Scarecrow. "You know," she began, "brainless or not, somehow I had you figured as being above gutteral monosyllabic communication."

"Huh?" asked the Scarecrow.

"Unnhh...Oooh...Err."

Torpedo gasped. "What was that?"

The Scarecrow pointed to a clump of cherry trees next to the cottage. "It came from over there," he noted helpfully.

Torpedo skirted around the trees to look, with the Scarecrow following close behind her. She stopped short upon reaching the other side, however, genuinely surprised at what she saw.

There was a big chunk missing out of one of the largest of the cherry trees, as if someone had been chopping at it. Standing next to the tree, poised to strike again with his axe, was a man who appeared to have been made entirely of tin. Torpedo and the Scarecrow watched him carefully for a full minute, but during that time the man did not move at all, so finally Torpedo made up her mind to talk to him.

"Are you...all right?"

"Do I _look_ all right to you?" snapped the tin man rudely. "What do _you_ care, anyway?"

"He's a bit crabby, isn't he?"

The tin man rolled his eyes to glare at the Scarecrow through his goggles. "Oh yeah?" he demanded "Well, you'd be tee'ed off too, if you'd been stuck for ages in one position just because the weatherman decided to overlook a ninety-five percent chance of showers!"

Torpedo frowned. "Then I take it you're rusted?"

The tin man looked at her in surprise, then turned his attention back to the Scarecrow. "Observant little hick, isn't she?" he remarked.

The tern yanked on her braids. "Can we assist you in any way?" she inquired through clenched teeth.

"Get an oilcan and oil me!" returned the Tin Woodman, irritated.

"Anyone would know that," the Scarecrow pointed out.

"There's an oilcan in my cottage," concluded the Tin Woodman.

Torpedo turned wordlessly and entered the cottage, where she found the afore-mentioned oilcan on a shelf next to a set of jumper cables. She went back outside and, without waiting for further instructions, oiled the tin man's neck, arms, and legs.

The Tin Woodman set down his axe with an agonized groan, then proceeded to test the workings of his joints in silence.

Torpedo waited patiently for a few moments, then became angry.

"Well, aren't you going to thank me?" she blurted.

The Tin Woodman gave the tern a distasteful look. "What for?" he snapped.

Torpedo clicked her tongue sharply. "For saving your life!" she yelled at him.

Shrugging, The Tin Woodman picked up his axe again, and hoisted it to his shoulder. "Oh, I couldn't do that," he said.

"And why not?"

"Because I wasn't alive to begin with, so it would be lying. And - " he added, " - I couldn't tell a lie." He finished chopping down the cherry tree.

Torpedo whacked the downed tree with the toy dog, which squeaked. "Oh, you're a vicious, heartless creature!" she snarled. "May you oxidate into nothing!"

The Scarecrow went to the Tin Woodman and patted him on the back reassuringly. "It's too bad you haven't got a heart," he consoled him. "I myself lack a brain. But I'm going with Torpedo to the Emerald City to ask the Great Oz to give me one. Why don't you come with us and ask him for a heart?"

Torpedo gaped at the Scarecrow in horror.

"Well..." The Tin Woodman mulled the proposition over. "I suppose I _could_ go...there's not much to do around here." He reshouldered his axe.

"Great!" exclaimed the Scarecrow. "We'll probably need this," he added, picking up the oilcan from where Torpedo had dropped it and putting it in the wicker basket.


	3. Chapter III

_Chapter III_

The path through the forest seemed to stretch on for miles, and indeed it might have, for it was full of twists and bends and curlyques that made the trip much longer than it could have been. And to make the travelling worse, the woods became very dark very fast, probably due to the sun setting, although none of the party could be sure if that was the case, as the canopy of leaves overhead was too dense to see through to tell whether the sun had set or not.

"That's it - I've got to stop," announced Torpedo, sitting down on a convenient tree stump.

"Why?" asked the Scarecrow.

"Because I'm tired, that's why." Torpedo took off the Silver Birkenstorks and rubbed her feet. "I know such things probably don't bother you, but I've walked enough for today, and I need to rest." She put the shoes back on, then froze. "I heard a noise," she hissed to the others.

"So did I," said the Scarecrow. "Hay is quieter than straw, too."

Before Torpedo could tell the stuffed man that it wasn't _that_ kind of a noise, a Lion appeared out of the foliage behind her and sprung over her head to knock down the Scarecrow, who went sailing over to the edge of the road amid a flurry of scattered straw. The Tin Woodman waved his axe menacingly at the beast, but the Lion gave a great roar and sent the tin man flying with one blow of a forepaw. Having disposed of Torpedo's companions, he bounded towards the tern with his teeth bared.

Torpedo did the only thing she could do. She seized the toy dog and smacked the Lion one across the jaw. The beast rolled over onto his back and lay there, stunned, with all four paws in the air. Torpedo stood over him, shaking the toy dog like a shaman's rattle.

The Lion whimpered and rubbed his jaw. "Why'd you do that; I didn't do anything to you," he whined pitifully.

"No, but you were going to." Torpedo lowered the toy dog. "Look what you did to the Scarecrow." She waved towards the stuffed man, who was crawling around on his hands and knees, retrieving his displaced straw and shoving it down his collar by the handful. "And you hit the Tin Woodman!" Torpedo added indignantly as the indicated person puffed like a bellows in an effort to push out the huge dent in his chest.

"Don't hit me again!" pleaded the Lion, getting to his knees and wringing his forepaws together. "I didn't mean to do it, honest!" he went on. "But they were such easy targets!" He hung his head. "I guess I'm just a big coward."

Torpedo glared at him. "You're more than that," she said. "You're a...you're a...you're a plant," she finished, noting that the Lion was green and sported three stamens on his head.

The Lion shook his purple mane sadly. "All my life I've been a coward," he sighed. "I was born that way, I guess."

"You mean sprouted," corrected Torpedo.

"Gee, Torpedo," offered the Scarecrow, "maybe we should ask the Lion if he would like to - "

Torpedo quickly clamped the Scarecrow's bill shut with both hands. "Oh, no you don't," she hissed. "That's how we got Mr. Protagonist in our little group." She nodded at the Tin Woodman, who was humming tunelessly as he sharpened his axe on his tin head.

"Ask me if I would like to what?" inquired the Lion, sniveling.

"Come with us to see the Wizard of Oz," answered the Tin Woodman before Torpedo could stop him.

"Oh, _can_ I?" The Lion wiped away his tears with the purple tuft on the end of his green tail. "I would be so grateful if the Wizard could give me courage."

"Oh, terrific," blurted Torpedo, releasing the Scarecrow and crossing her arms. "Who's next, Negaduck?" She looked over at the Lion tiredly. "Of course you can come," she said. "I just hope you don't have leaf lice."

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

They camped out that night in the woods, for the Lion claimed that while he himself was a coward, his roar would keep any wild animal away. So the Tin Woodman built a fire, and the Scarecrow returned the basket to Torpedo so she could eat some of the bread and cheese for dinner. When she offered some of the food to the Lion, he refused politely and crept off to the edge of the campsite to plant himself in the soil there, where he fell asleep. Torpedo herself slept by the fire, and by morning they were all ready to continue down the contact-paper-covered road.

They hadn't been following it for twenty minutes when they came up to the edge of a very wide, very deep ditch that stretched out in both directions so far that they couldn't see the ends of it.

"Well, that's peachy," grunted the Tin Woodman in disgust.

"What should we do?" cried the Scarecrow.

Torpedo peered down at the bottom of the ditch. It was littered with many sharp stones and other nasty-looking things that surely wouldn't be nice to fall on. "That reminds me," she thought, "I really need to update my tetenus shots."

"I might be able to get us across," said the Lion after a bit of mental calculating.

The others were willing to try anything, so they consented to the Lion's plan.

"I really should think about getting my cerebellum tightened," remarked the Tin Woodman, struggling to maintain his balance as he crossed the gulf on the thin vine that the Lion had caused to grow between the two sides.

Torpedo held the toy dog out in front of herself like a tightwalker's pole. "No kidding," she agreed.

"What's so hard about this?" asked the Scarecrow, strolling unconcernedly along the vine with his hands in his pockets.

"I guess sometimes it's good not to have a brain," Torpedo whispered to the Tin Woodman.

After they had all safely crossed, the Lion waved his paw, and the vine receeded into the side of the ditch where it had originally come from.

The road took a sharp left turn, and very soon they were out of the forest, and standing on the bank of the river that bordered the woods. The location of the river had been fine with them before, but now the road led straight into the water! Indeed, the road could be seen emerging from the water on the other side and continuing on over the hills.

"I can't go in there," objected the Tin Woodman immediately.

"None of us could go in there," exclaimed Torpedo, watching the water froth as it pounded on the rocks.

The Lion sat back on his haunches dejectedly and said, "Then I guess we're stuck."

"That's not fair," complained Torpedo, sitting on a boulder next to the Lion. "We can't stop now - and I _know_ I can't get these shoes wet."

"If we had a boat we could get across," said the Scarecrow.

The Tin Woodman nudged Torpedo. "Who says he needs a brain?"

"Why don't you use that axe of yours to build us a boat?" demanded the Lion of the tin man.

"He won't need to," supplied the Scarecrow, returning from the clumps of reeds at the river's edge dragging a log raft behind him. "The props department was way ahead of us."

They asked no questions, and boarded the small craft. The Tin Woodman and Scarecrow took up long sturdy reeds to steer with, and they launched the craft into the middle of the current.

"Look out!" cried Torpedo in panic. "We're going to crash into those rocks!"

The Scarecrow shoved his pole deep into the river to try to alter the raft's trajectory, when a voice yelped:

"Hey, watch it, buster! That was my eye!"

The Liquidator thrust his head out of the water to glare at the raft's crew angrily.

"You?" Torpedo was astounded. "What are _you_ doing here?

The Liquidator looked irritated. "I'm an extra," he snapped. "It was either that or Toto. Anyway, right now I'm playing the river's current, and you're my cue."

He disappeared under the surface, and suddenly the Scarecrow's pole was siezed and pulled away from the raft. The stuffed man, not having the wits to let go, was left stranded in the middle of the river.

"Good-bye!" he called to the others as the raft continued downstream.

"Oh, this is terrible!" wailed the Lion.

"We've got to save him!" Torpedo said loudly.

The Tin Woodman lost his pole to another current, and tumbled onto the deck of the craft. "I think we'd better worry about saving ourselves!" he shouted, pointing to the row of huge rocks that spanned the river ahead.

"I think I can pull us to shore," said the Lion quickly, "if one of you hold on to my tail."

So the Lion sprang into the water, and the Tin Woodman held fast onto his tail as the beast paddled furiously toward the opposite bank.

Torpedo began to panic. "We're not going to make it!" she screamed as the rocks loomed closer.

But the Lion increased his efforts and managed to land the raft safely before anyone got hurt.

The Lion shook himself off, and the Tin Woodman hid behind Torpedo to keep from getting wet and rusting again. "Well, we've managed to reach the other side," the Lion said, "but I'm afraid we've lost the Scarecrow in the process, and must continue without him."

Whereupon Torpedo became very sad, for she felt rather sorry for the poor Scarecrow, who was now doomed to a fate no longer scaring crows, but kingfishers or something similar.

The Tin Woodman picked up Torpedo's basket. "Well, then, let's go," he said.

Torpedo retrieved the toy dog, and with the Lion following her, she joined the Tin Woodman in heading back along the embankment in order to meet up with the rest of the contact-paper-covered road.

After they had gone fifty paces or so, the Lion stopped.

"Look!" he cried, pointing out over the river. There, stuck on his pole, was the Scarecrow, looking depressed and dejected.

"Oh, we can't just leave," Torpedo admonished the Tin Woodman angrily. "We've got to get him back."

So they sat on the bank to try to think of a way to save their stuffed companion.

While they were sitting there a Stork waded up to them from where she had been probing for crayfish in the mud. She looked at the group curiously.

"Quit staring, feather-mop!" snapped the Tin Woodman at the bird. "This ain't no peep-show."

The Stork ruffled her tail in indignation. "I was just wondering," she began sharply, "if you knew where that eyesore in the middle of my beautiful river came from and when it's leaving. I can't have the scenery around my future home marred like that."

"He's with us," said Torpedo quickly, "and we've been trying to think of a way to get him over here."

The Stork preened a wing. "Well, if he weren't so heavy, I'd offer to fetch him myself."

"He _isn't_ heavy," interposed the Lion eagerly. "He's stuffed with straw. You can carry him."

"And we would be so thankful if you did," put in Torpedo. She nudged the Tin Woodman with her elbow. "Right?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, sure."

"Well, I'll try," said the Stork, and, flapping her wide wings, she flew over to the Scarecrow, clasped his arm in her claws, and headed back for the bank. But she didn't stop there.

"What's she doing?" cried the Lion.

"I don't know," answered Torpedo, "but we have to follow her!"

So the three ran along after the Stork, who continued on away from the river; for the bird had decided that the Scarecrow's straw was just the thing to build a nest out of (and it was a lot cheaper than a rental).

Torpedo and the others ran along until the tern and the Lion were winded and the Tin Woodman's feet were dented. But eventually the Stork got to calculating contractor's fees, and dropped the Scarecrow in a field of wildflowers.

Torpedo, the Lion, and the Tin Woodman hurried to the Scarecrow's side. "Are you all right?" asked Torpedo, although she was fairly certain nothing which had transpired could have possibly hurt the stuffed man.

"I'm fine," responded the Scarecrow cheerfully, sitting up, "although I'm disappointed that the Stork didn't think I was kosher enough to make a nest out of."

"Never mind that - we've got to find the road again." Torpedo shielded her eyes from the bright glare the sun put on the flowers, and strained to see the horizon. "There it is!" she announced, pointing to the other side of the field.

"And there's the Emerald City!" added the Lion.

Overjoyed at almost being at the end of their journey, the four began to run through the field of flowers towards their destination.

"Soon I'll be brave enough to be the true King of the Forest!" cried the Lion happily as he bounded along.

"And I can get a heart and then maybe someone can tell me why I needed one in the first place!" exclaimed the Tin Man.

"And I'll be so happy when I get my...uh...when I get my...What was I getting again?" the Scarecrow asked the grinning yellow crow on his shoulder.

Torpedo was also glad. "And finally I'll have some direction in life! Well, it's about time." She yawned. "I'm getting tired," she told the others.

The Lion yawned too. "So am I," he said.

They stopped running.

"Didn't you two just rest a few hours ago?" demanded the Tin Woodman.

"Well, I need to rest again," snapped Torpedo, lying down. The Lion lay beside her, and soon they were both fast asleep.

"I don't believe this!" The Tin Woodman was agitated at the wait. "We're almost there!"

"Calm down," said the Scarecrow. "They're living things. They need to go...limp...like that every once in a while."

"Ooh, I'll make _you_ go limp!" roared the Tin Woodman, swiping at the Scarecrow with his axe.

The stuffed man ducked. "Hey, wait!" he cried. "What did _I_ do?"

"You say the stupidest things," answered the Tin Woodman, "and they grate on my nerves!"

The Scarecrow dodged, then noticed something descending from the sky. "Look - up there!" he said, and the Tin Woodman and he both marveled at the sight.

"Wow, a giant soap-bubble," remarked the tin man.

The Good Witch of the North halted her descent when she was still a good ten feet from the ground, and the bubble disentegrated around her.

"You idiots!" she screamed, hovering above Torpedo and the Lion. "This is a poppy field! You ran right into a poppy field! Don't you know anything?"

"No," answered the Scarecrow. "I don't have a brain."

The Good Witch ignored him. She was upset at the inconvenience saving Torpedo and the Lion had put upon her. "Well, this ought to wake the sleeping beauties up." She took a cannister from her apron, opened it, and dumped a generous amount of powdered cleanser on the pair.

Torpedo and the Lion soon roused, choking.

"Oh, yechh!" sputtered the Lion, spitting the soap out.

Torpedo was enraged. "Sanitized again?" she complained.

"Nope," answered the Good Witch, "scrubbed!"

"Oh, peachy," snorted Torpedo in disgust.

The Good Witch went on. "The smell of the soap will keep you from falling asleep again, kids," she said. "I'd have thought that you would have had more sense than to walk right into a field of poppies!"

Torpedo was mystified. "What's so bad about poppies?"

The Good Witch was severely taken aback by the question. "Everybody knows that when there's a lot of poppies in one place, their scent is so strong that it can make someone sleep forever!"

"No it isn't," said the Lion.

"Now, don't get in trouble again!" the Good Witch warned the group. "I've got enough to do without having to come around and bail you people out!" And with these words, the Witch disappeared in a puff of cockroach fumigation.


	4. Chapter IV

_Chapter IV_

The brilliancy of the city astounded them, so they walked slowly toward the great gate that separated them from their hoped-for fortune.

When they reached the gate, which seemed to have been forged from some sort of green metal, they all stopped, unsure as to just what they should do next.

"Maybe there's a doorbell," suggested the Scarecrow.

A moment's examination revealed a small silver bell next to the gate. Torpedo tugged at the bell-pull, and at the modest ring, the gate swung open.

They passed through without hesitation, and entered a high domed room whose walls were completely encrusted with emeralds.

"'The Four Strangers Reach the Emerald City': take one," bellowed a Voice from behind them, startling the poor Lion so badly that he jumped into the Scarecrow's arms.

"Welcome to the magnificent Emerald City of Oz, my good friends!" went on the Voice, which turned out to be attached to a large walrus dressed entirely in green. "I am the Guardian of the Gates, and I am to be your escort through the streets of our fabulous metropolis."

"Thank you," said the Lion politely, getting back on his feet.

"You are ever so welcome," replied the Guardian of the Gates. "Now, can I assist you in any special way?"

"Yes," answered Torpedo. "We wish to see the Great Oz."

"What? _What?_" The Guardian's eyes grew wide. "Cut!" he screamed to the three penguins in the corner, who had been filming the whole episode on an old-fashioned camera. "No one sees Oz!" he cried, turning to Torpedo in a passion.

"Maybe not," said the Scarecrow, "but _he_ has to see _her!_"

The Guardian scowled. "How's that?" he asked the stuffed man gruffly.

"Well, because..." But the Scarecrow simply couldn't think of a reason.

Torpedo had just about had it. "Look, Toothy," she snarled, grabbing the Guardian's lapels and shaking with all her might. "I've gone tromping all over the countryside and over a river for your lousy Wizard, and I expect _service!_"

The Guardian gazed at her in surprise, then his eyes fell on the mark on the tern's forehead.

"Zounds!" he exclaimed. "She's been - sanitized!"

The three penguins gasped in unison.

"That's right," said the Tin Woodman quickly. "She's protected by the Good Witch of the North herself!"

Torpedo released the Guardian, who shook himself. "Well, why didn't you say so? Why didn't you say so?" He was quite flustered. "Of _course_ he'll see you. Come this way, my good people."

The Guardian of the Gates led the way to a small square chamber covered inside with green embroidered draperies. A green box sat in the middle of the room.

"Before you can enter the city," explained the Guardian to the party, "you must put on special spectacles to protect your eyes from the brightness of everything inside." The three penguins rushed up and rummaged through the box, which the others could see was filled with spectacles of many different sizes, each of which had green glass set in them.

"Don't you wear them?" asked the Lion.

"Certainly," replied the Guardian, "but only when I'm in the city. Come, come, you three, can't you find anything to fit our friends here?" he said to the penguins impatiently.

The small birds conversed quietly amongst themselves for a moment, then one approached Torpedo with a tape measure. Before the tern could protest, the penguin hopped up and measured the perimeter of her head, then went over and measured each of her companions' heads in turn. Then, as an afterthought, he measured the crow's and the stuffed dog's heads as well.

The Guardian tapped his foot on the floor. "We're wasting precious time!" he chided his assistants.

The penguins soon found a pair of the green spectacles to fit each measurement, and the Guardian locked the glasses on each person at the back with a small green key that hung on a chain around his neck. "There," he said, then locked on his own spectacles. He then went to the door of the room and opened it. The penguins, not wearing any spectacles, shied away from the glare that came from beyond, and hid behind the green box.

"Come along now," called the Guardian of the Gates, and the four companions followed him into the city.

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

The green spectacles may have kept them from being blinded, but the group members' eyes still smarted momentarily upon entering the Emerald City. Everything seemed to give off a bright green glare, and even the people appeared to be green. Of course, that could have been a faulty perception given them by the spectacles.

The road the Guardian took them by led to a massive palace, all green, naturally, and studded with the largest emeralds Torpedo had ever seen, even in her geologist's journals.

"This tower, my dear friends," boomed the Guardian, turning around, "is nine hundred and forty-two feet high, is constructed of a special green iron ore found only in this part of the country, and as you can see - "

"Cut the tourist clap-trp!" interrupted the Tin Woodman rudely, "and let's get on with it!"

" - And as you can see, it was built in the exact center of our illustrious city," the Guardian finished in a huff. "Wait here while I convey your arrival to the proper authorities." He continued on up the road, and the others waited behind.

Torpedo narrowed her eyes at the Tin Woodman vehemently. "Oh, you'd better get that heart soon," she snarled at him,. "I was hoping he'd say where those emeralds were mined!"

The Guardian hurried back down to the group, his hand on his hat to keep it from tumbling off his head. He began hastily: "I told him about your seal, but he didn't - " He glanced over his shoulder fearfully. "Sorry, dear friends, but I must away; that's a take." He waddled furiously back down the road the way they had come.

"Well, that was rude," commented the Scarecrow.

"We've got worse problems," cut in the Lion as a man approached.

The man, a tall rooster dressed in a green soldier's uniform, stopped right in front of Torpedo, who held her ground. "So, yous tink I's a _problem_, do yous?" He turned up his bill, which appeared to have been constructed from the same green metal that formed the gates outside, in disgust. "So's yous wanna see the Great Oz, huh?" He examined Torpedo carefully from head to foot "An' what are dose _stupid_ shoes you is wearin'?" he demanded.

The tern was infuriated. "These are Birkenstorks!" she shouted, sticking out a foot so the soldier could see better. "I know the metallic look is out, but..."

"I heard it was coming back," put in the Tin Woodman.

The soldier stepped back. "The Silver Birkenstorks! Where did you get dose?"

"Never mind where she got them," said the Scarecrow. "She _got_ them. You have to let her see the Wizard."

The soldier scratched his comb thoughtfully. "I suppose the Wizard'll let yous in wit' dose," he mused. "But I gotta tell yous, I can't guarantee nuttin'."

"Good enough," said the Tin Woodman. "Let's go."

The Soldier With the Green Bill took them inside, and led them to a large sitting-room, furnished all in green, of course.

"Yous wait here,"said the Soldier to the group, "and I'll carry your message to Oz." He left.

"It shouldn't bee too long now," said the Lion.

The Scarecrow nodded. "That's right," he said. "Soon we'll all get what we want."

"It _better_ be soon," grumbled the Tin Woodman.

But it wasn't. They waited there for at least three hours.

"This is ridiculous!" Torpedo finally said to break the silence.

"It certainly is," agreed the Soldier With the Green Bill, joining them once again. "The Wizard wants to see yous - one at a time," he added quickly as the group rushed the door en masse. "The farmer brat goes in first."

Torpedo glared at the Soldier, then went through the door alone.

She followed a long corridor with green windows until she reached the large pair of barred iron doors at its end. As she stood there wondering just how to get in, the bar lifted of its own accord and the doors swung open silently. Clutching the toy dog nervously, she stepped forward.

"I am Oz, the Great and Terrible!"

Torpedo blinked and looked around. The room was empty, save for a set of green marble stairs at the far end, and the huge green throne adorning its top. Sitting on the throne was a huge Head, with no body whatsoever to support it. The Head of course was green, and its green helmet's pair of long green springs tipped with green spheres bobbed when it spoke.

"I am Oz, the Great and Terrible!" the Head repeated.

Torpedo paused. "Speaking of terrible," she said, "you really should think about braces for that buck tooth."

_"Silence!"_ roared the Head, and phosporescent green fog rolled out of its bill. "I am a great and powerful wizard!"

"Oh, yeah, about that..." Torpedo wrung the toy dog in her hands. "I came here to ask you for - "

The Head interrupted her with a loud shriek.

"Oh, you came asking for a _gift_, did you?" it demanded viciously, its bill curling in a snarl. "Well, I don't give gifts without a favor in return. I can't do it for nothing, you know."

Torpedo shook her head. "No, of course not," she said. "Anyway, I was going to ask you for some - "

"It will have to be a big favor," put in the Head.

"Fine!" screamed Torpedo. "But first listen to what I want!"

"Oh, all right," said the Head sullenly.

Torpedo harrumphed. Some Great and Powerful Wizard. "I want some direction in life," she said. "Do you think you can manage that?"

"Oh, I think so," answered the Head. "Anyway, about my favor..."

"What is it?"

The Head took a deep breath. "I understand you killed the Wicked Witch of the East...Am I right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"So I want you to kill the Wicked Witch of the West."

Torpedo was astounded. "How?"

"You'll think of a way." The Head closed its eyes. "Do not return until she is dead. Just be sure to bring proof of her demise. Send in the stuffed man next. Good day."

"But you can't do that!" Torpedo became frightened. "I don't know how to kill a witch!"

"Good day," repeated the Head, then it fell silent.

Torpedo pleaded for a few more minutes, but the Head said nothing in return (it was as if it had been shut off), so finally she went back to the sitting-room, where the others had been waiting for her.

"What happened?" said the Lion eagerly.

"What did Oz look like?" asked the Scarecrow.

Torpedo told them all of what had transpired: about the self-opening doors, and the bodiless head, and finally about the favor the Wizard had demanded.

"But what will you do?" cried the Scarecrow. "How _do_ you kill a witch?"

Torpedo sighed and sat down on a green footstool. "I don't know," she said. "Anyway, he wants to see you next."

"Well," said the Scarecrow, "if Oz is nothing but a Head, then there is nothing for me to be afraid of, for a Head can't possibly do anything to hurt me."

So the others wished him luck, and the Scarecrow went down the corridor.

When he reached the doors, they opened by themselves, just as Torpedo had said. Reassured that things were going as expected, the Scarecrow stepped into the throne room boldly.

There was a great clattering, and the Scarecrow looked up at the green throne, which held not a Head, but a huge pair of green -

"Novelty teeth?" The Scarecrow scratched his stuffed head.

"I - am - Oz - the - Great - and - Terrible!" the Teeth clattered. "What - is - your - business - with - me?"

"I thought you were a giant Head," remarked the Scarecrow, who didn't know enough to be frightened.

"I - am - everything - and - yet - I - am - nothing!" clacked the Teeth.

The Scarecrow pondered upon this wisdom for a moment, then decided to overlook it.

"Will you give me brains?" he asked.

The Teeth snapped furiously. "Only - if - you - do - something - for - me," they replied. "Kill - the - Wicked - Witch - of - the - West!"

"But I thought you wanted Torpedo to kill the Witch..?"

"I - don't - care - _who_ - kills - her!" the Teeth chattered angrily. "Don't - come - back - until - you - can - prove - she - is - dead! Send - in - the - metal - man - next! Good - day."

The Scarecrow returned to the others and told them everything.

"A toy?" roared the Tin Woodman, and he laughed maniacally. "The Great Oz is trying to scare us with a _toy?_ Well, he can't scare _me_." He stomped as loudly as he could all the way down the corridor and through the doors, which had opened for him.

And there he stopped.

"You - you're not a toy!" he cried in terror.

"Pull the other one," hissed the fire hose coiled on the throne, swaying back and forth like a snake. "I am Ozss, the Great and Terrible. What isss your desssire?"

"Well...ah..er...um..." The Tin Woodman tried to find his voice, and wound up dropping to his knees. "Uh...I came here for a...for a heart."

"A...heart?" A forked droplet of water shot out of the hose's nozzle, hung there a moment, then crept back in as the creature turned the tin man's request over in its mind. "Very well," it answered at length, "but firssst you mussst ssslay the Wicked Witch of the Wessst...When you have done that, bring proof of her demissse to me, and then I will give you a heart, but not before. Sssend in the plant nexsst. Good day."

So the Tin Woodman went back. The Lion was very much relieved to find that the Great Oz was a water hose.

"For," he said, "water is one of my favorite things!"

So he went down the corridor and through the doors, and looked around the Throne Room in bewilderment.

"There's no one here!" he exclaimed, surprised.

"Oh, yes there _is!_" squeaked a tiny voice from the seat of the throne. "I am Oz the Great and Terrible!"

The Lion climbed the staircase and peered at the throne's cushion.

"Oh no, a leaf-louse!" he cried, drawing back in alarm.

The tiny louse crossed its legs and yawned widely. "I am Oz the Great and Terrible," it repeated languidly. "Why do you seek me?"

The Lion kow-towed to the insect fearfully. "Oh, Great Oz," he pleaded. "I am in great need of courage!"

"I can give you courage," replied the louse unconcernedly, lounging on its side. "Kill for me the Wicked Witch of the West, and I'll give you all the courage you want. Don't forget to bring something to prove that you did her in. Good day."

The Lion returned back to his companions sadly, for he was sure he could never kill the Wicked Witch, and so would never get his courage.

"But the Wizard said he didn't care who kills her," the Scarecrow told the beast, "so if one of us kills her, you'll get your courage."

"Killing a witch isn't like stomping an ant, you know," the Tin Woodman felt he had to point out.

"That's true," said Torpedo, "but I'm sure we'll think of something."


	5. Chapter V

_Chapter V_

The next morning the Soldier With the Green Bill led the way for the group to the square green room that had the box in it, where the penguins put their spectacles away after the Guardian of the Gates had unlocked them.

"Which way is it to the Wicked Witch of the West's?" the Scarecrow asked the Walrus.

"I don't know," answered the Guardian truthfully. "But I imagine that if one keeps to the West, one will find the Witch."

"Well, that's convenient," said the Tin Woodman.

So they thanked the Guardian and bade him goodbye, and were soon on their way westward.

"Now, that's odd," remarked the Scarecrow, looking up, "isn't it a little early for sunset?"

The Tin Woodman hit the Scarecrow in the shoulder with the butt of his axe, which resulted in nothing more than a soft thump. "You are _such_ a moron!" he yelled. "The sun didn't set! That's a cloud."

"Do clouds have pagers?" the Lion asked Torpedo.

Torpedo couldn't believe her eyes. "That's no cloud!" she cried. "Take cover!"

But there was nowhere to hide, for right at that moment there descended upon them a flock of winged monkeys in business suits and designer sunglasses.

"Strange," murmered the Scarecrow to himself as he was lifted off the ground by four of the monkeys, "they look like secret agents or something."

"Get back, you flea-bitten flying rug!" The Tin Woodman swung at a monkey with his axe, but he was seized by a group of others who carried him upwards.

The Lion roared and swiped at the creatures with his forepaws, but one big monkey grabbed him by the tail and took him the way of the others.

Torpedo was very much dismayed at the fate of her comrades, but there was nothing she could do but watch.

The Scarecrow the monkeys pulled apart, and they scattered all his straw around the countryside and then threw his remains up in a tree.

They dropped the Tin Woodman down in a gully, where he lay so badly dented he couldn't even complain.

The big monkey that had picked up the Lion swung the beast around his head like a bola, then, once the Lion was properly dizzy, the winged monkey flew away with him to a destination Torpedo didn't particularly want to guess at.

Then, when that was done, the monkeys bore down on the tern, who dropped her basket, but didn't bother trying to run.

When they came near, the one in the front, who wore a golden tie-tack, stopped in midair, a very surprised look on his simian face.

"Acck - look, on her forehead!" he chattered to the others. "The Seal of Good Housekeeping! We dare not harm this one - but we'll take her to the Wicked Witch herself!"

Torpedo cringed, but it did no good, for the monkeys snatched her up and flew away to the west with her.

They soon arrived at a black, dreary castle, where the monkeys left Torpedo on a balcony. Then, chattering and laughing, they flew away.

Torpedo clutched the toy dog, which she still had, close to her in fright and stepped through the open doorway and into the castle.

The only light in this room came from the door the girl had come through, and she could make out a crouched figure wearing a tall, pointed hat in the corner, stirring something in a huge pot that simmered over a fire.

"Um...hello?" Torpedo called timidly.

The figure stopped stirring and stepped into the light. "Oh, my stars!" she exclaimed, clasping her hands together. "A little lady! Well, don't dawdle now, dear, and come closer to the fire! You'll catch a chill over by that open door."

"I surmise you're the Wicked Witch of the West," said Torpedo.

"That's who I am!" enthushed the yellow goose cheerfully.

Torpedo nodded at the pot. "And that's your brew, right?"

The Witch laughed and said, "No dear, this is my laundry." She fished around inside with the large spoon she had been stirring with and pulled out a black dress and grey apron, the same exact thing she was wearing at the time. "A girl needs a variety of clothes if she wants to make a good impression on folks."

"But you're an evil sorceress!" Torpedo exclaimed.

"Oh, yes, well," said the Witch, lowering the spoon, "I may be evil, but at least my impression is good. Come inside now, dear, and close the door behind you."

Torpedo hesitated a moment, then complied. She stood next to the pot of laundry and waited expectantly for the Witch to continue.

"Oh, dear me, your hair will never do that way," fussed the Witch, clicking her tongue sharply and reaching into her apron pocket. "I've got some lovely hair ribbons here we can make some pretty bows with...Oh, and wouldn't you look just adorable with a perm!"

Torpedo backed way. "Now I know why they call you the Wicked Witch of the West!" she screeched in horror. "Don't do anything hasty..."

The Witch started warming up a curling iron. "Come stand over here, dear, and I'll fix you right up," she called sweetly.

"Get back, hideous sub-creature of the Netherworld!" Torpedo cringed behind the pot.

"What's all the noise out here?" demanded the Liquidator, sitting up in the pot and looking around. "I'm trying to do some laundry!"

"You've _got_ to help me!" implored Torpedo. She seized the Liquidator where his lapels would be if he was wearing a jacket and moaned: "She wants to perm my hair!"

The Liquidator snickered. "What's the matter?" he sneered. "A perm would look just great with - " he snorted derisively - "gingham!"

"Oh, go flush yourself!" snarled Torpedo viciously, upturning the contents of the pot onto the floor.

The force of the laundry water sent the Liquidator hurtling into the Wicked Witch, who let out an awful screech.

"If that was another way to yell 'rape,' I had nothing to do with it," said the Liquidator quickly, propping himself up on his elbows.

"No - no!" shrieked the Witch, staring at her hands in horror. "I'm _melting!_"

"Well, what do you know," commented Torpedo, watching as the Witch shrank before her very eyes. "Sugar and spice, and all that."

In a moment the Wicked Witch was no more, and all that remained of her was her pearl necklace. Absently, Torpedo picked it up and put it in her apron pocket.

"What will you do now?" the Liqidator asked her.

The tern thought a moment. "I'm not sure," she said at length, "but I need to find a way to recover my, uh...dependants."

"What happened to _them?_"

Torpedo struck her palm with the toy dog. "A troop of flying monkeys in business suits pretty much destroyed two of them and took off with the other someplace," she said.

The Liquidator righted the pot and started putting the scattered wet clothes back into it. "Then maybe you should ask the monkeys to help them," he suggested.

"You've got to be kidding!" the tern exclaimed. "After what they did?"

"But you have the Witch's pearl necklace!" said the Liquidator, turning back towards Torpedo. "That's how _she_ controlled them."

"Then that's what I'll do," proclaimed Torpedo decidedly. She marched back out onto the balcony and retrieved the necklace from her pocket.

"Now how do you work this thing?" She turned it over in her hands, and noticed gold writing on the pearls.

"What weird instructions," Torpedo mused. "Oh, well."

First she put on the necklace (around her ankle; she had to loop the string twice, but she didn't like to wear things around her neck), then she stood on her left foot.

"Ep-pe, pep-pe, kak-ke!" she proclaimed. When nothing happened, she continued by switching to her right foot.

"Hil-lo, hol-lo, hel-lo!"

She paused experimentally, then finished the charm standing on both feet:

"Ziz-zy, zuz-zy, zik!"

"What do you command?" inquired the Monkey With the Golden Tie-Tack, who seemed to appear out of mid-air, closely followed by the rest of the monkeys.

Torpedo was not long in answering. "I command that you put the Scarecrow back together, fix the Tin Woodman, and bring the Lion back unharmed from...wherever...you...took him." She paused, and the full effect of the power she held over the monkeys manifested itself in her brain. "Immediately!" she added in a scream.

It seemed only moments before the departing monkeys returned with Torpedo's charges, no matter how dented or in how many pieces those charges happened to be. However, with the help of some fresh straw and a couple of hammers, everyone was a good as new (despite the Lion's persisting dizziness).

"Wait - you're not dismissed yet," Torpedo said quickly as the monkeys prepared to depart.

The lead monkey turned around in a crouch, "What is your request, O Mighty One?"

Torpedo's eyes flashed. "No need to get sarcastic!" she snapped. "Take us back to the Emerald City! All of us...now!"

The Monkey With the Golden Tie-Tack growled softly under his breath. "I liked the Saccharine Sorceress better," he remarked to the others.

So without further ceremony the winged monkeys took up the four travellers (along with the toy dog, which Torpedo still had a firm grasp on), and flew them off to the City for the last time.


	6. Chapter VI

_Chapter VI_

"This time there is no way I'm going to wait here for another lousy three hours!"

The Scarecrow waved off the Tin Woodman unconcernedly. "Ha!" he said. "He wouldn't do that to us - we did what he wanted."

"That's right," interposed the Lion. "Torpedo killed the Witch. He'll be glad to see us."

"Yeah," sighed Torpedo. "Glad."

In fact the Wizard was so glad that he left them waiting five hours.

The Tin Woodman gritted his tin teeth together in fury, creating sparks. "This constitutes grounds for prehumous cremation!" He leapt up and shouldered his axe. "We'll take the Throne Room by storm!" And with that he began to render the door into green toothpicks.

"Oh, I don't think you should do that," worried the Lion, wringing his tail fretfully.

Torpedo sniffed. "If it will get us in, _I_ think he should."

The Soldier With the Green Bill ran in waving his arms. "Just what do yous tink yous are doin'?" he said. "Dat's no way to gain favor wi' da Boss."

The Tin Woodman turned around slowly, clutching the handle of the axe shakily. "Stay away from me," he wavered. "I've cut down bigger problems than _you_ with this thing."

"You'd better listen to him," advised the Scarecrow. "He's not himself right after an oil change."

The Tin Woodman finished chopping a hole through the door, and shook his axe in the air triumphantly. "Hahahahahahaaaa!" he crowed. "Victory is mine! Let's waste that wizard!" He dashed down the hallway, and in a moment the others heard him working on the iron doors at the other end.

"Come on," said Torpedo, stepping through the hole in the wooden door. "Let's go save him from himself." The Lion and the Scarecrow followed her without argument.

"Da proper authorities will hear about dis!" the Soldier With the Green Bill shouted after them. When they had gone, he sat himself down on the green footstool. "I knew I should have been a gardener," he grumbled.

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

"Oh, great - I've completely ruined my axe," snarled the Tin Woodman, throwing his battered tool down on the ground.

"You didn't have to," said the Scarecrow, lifting the bar. "_Now_ we can get in."

"Only a brainless idiot like you would think he knew everything," complained the tin man as they entered the Throne Room.

"Well, he isn't here!" declared the Scarecrow.

"Oh, no!" cried the Lion, leaping up onto the green chandelier.

"He isn't here!" the Tin Woodman echoed the Scarecrow. "What a gyp!"

Torpedo squeezed the toy dog in frustration, and accidentally pushed the button on the end of the stick. The dog twitched and squeaked, startling her.

"That's it!" Torpedo bellowed, trembling in agitation. "I've had it! I've had it with _Witches_, I've had it with the color _green_, and I've had it with this stupid piece of _junk!_" And she flung the toy away from her as hard as she could. It struck a tall green screen with another squeak, sending the screen crashing down over the head of -

"The Wizard?" exclaimed everyone in surprise.

The Wizard crawled out from beneath the ruined screen with some difficulty, and chuckled nervously at the group, who stared back at him rather coldly. He considered briefly making a mad dash for the door, but decided instead to talk his way out of a bad situation.

"Nice day for golf, don't you think?"

"You're not talking your way out of _this_ one, Bucky!" snarled Torpedo, looming over the Wizard like an impending storm. "We want our favors!"

The Wizard covered his head with his arms as if he were fending off hailstones. "I - I - can't!" he stammered. "I'm not really a Wizard. I'm a fake; I can't help you."

"Let me go!" the Tin Woodman screamed at the Scarecrow, who had grabbed his arms to keep him from throwing himself bodily upon the Wizard. "I'll mutilate him!"

Torpedo continued to glare at the Wizard. "I'll have you know we're not going anywhere until you do what you promised. Here's proof of the Witch's death - " she pulled off the pearl necklace and dangled it in front of the Wizard's bill - "so now it's your turn."

The Wizard pulled at his helmet's antennae thoughtfully, and finally said: "Okay."

The Tin Woodman stopped tying the tails of Scarecrow's jester hat around the stuffed man's neck. "'Okay'?" he repeated. "You're going to give us what we want?"

The Wizard clasped his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels. "You bet," he answered.

"Oh, well..." Now Torpedo was stammering. "That's...er - very...good. Hooray." She blinked and looked around. "Is it just me, or is this suddenly becoming easy?"

The Wizard looked up to the chandelier. "You wanted courage," he assessed to the Lion. "Tell me what I have in my hand."

The Lion paused, then hopped down to the floor and looked at the palm of the Wizard's outstretched hand. "It's a leaf louse," he said.

"And?"

The Lion frowned. "and what?"

"It's a leaf louse."

"I said that."

The Wizard tossed the louse over his shoulder. "I pronounce you courageous," proclaimed the Wizard, obtaining a gold medal from somewhere and looping it around the Lion's neck. "You failed to be afraid of a leaf louse, therefore you must be a very brave plant."

"Wow." The Lion was in awe. He looked at the medal. "Hey!" he protested. "This is for miniature golf!"

The Wizard ignored him. "And as for you," he said to the Tin Woodman, "you asked for a heart. Well, I'm afraid I don't have any hearts lying around, but I do have a swell battery-operated travel-size pressure cooker. It's made of copper, so it conducts warmth quite well. I guarantee it will make you a very warm man."

"Terrific," mumbled the Tin Woodman as the Wizard re-soldered his chest after installing the pressure cooker. "Now I'll be popular at Polish weddings."

"And as for your brain..." The Wizard pondered a moment over the Scarecrow's plight. " - I've got it!"

Before the Scarecrow could protest, the Wizard had snatched up the motionless yellow crow and taken off the stuffed man's head.

"Oh, I can't look!" moaned the Lion, putting his leafy paws over his eyes.

The Wizard pulled a huge fistful of straw out of the Scarecrow's head and replaced it with the crow. When he had done that, he refitted the Scarecrow's head where it belonged and dusted his hands off.

"There!" he said. "A brand-new Banana Brain!"

"Wow, a Banana Brain," breathed the Scarecrow, then he frowned. "Does that get as much milage as a domestically manufactured brain?"

"What about me?" interrupted Torpedo. "Am I going to get any direction in life or not?"

The Wizard scratched under his helmet. "Well, there is something you - I mean, _I_ could do...but you'll have to help me."

Torpedo shrugged. "Okay. What do I have to do?"

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

The Wizard lounged on his hammock and sipped a green lemonade. "Lift it a little higher," he told Torpedo, who leaned up against the pulley in exhaustion.

"Well, don't stop _now_," snapped the Wizard impatiently, peering over his green sunglasses. "How do you ever expect me to - I mean, _you_ to get out of here?"

Torpedo looked at him. "But I don't _want_ to leave - although that _would_ be nice," she said. "I want direction in life. Remember?"

"Oh, uh, yeah, sure I do," said the Wizard quickly.

Torpedo still wasn't satisfied. "And why am I constructing a hot-air balloon? How will _that_ give me direction in life?"

The Wizard sucked at his lemonade in an effort to stall. "Oh, well, that's because..." He concentrated, knitting his thick brows together. "...It's because you have to be on the _up-and-up_ if you want to gain direction in life."

"Oh," Torpedo said tonelessly, resuming her efforts to hoist the empty balloon higher. "How's this?" she gasped.

"Perfect," answered the Wizard cheerfully. "Tie 'er down."

It was only after Torpedo had lashed down the rope that held the heavy balloon upright, turned on the steam-powered bellows, and found some sandbags in the backroom to weigh down the basket that the Wizard was satisfied with her work. Abandoning the hammock, he hopped up and down and rubbed his small hands together gleefully as he watched the cloth bag slowly inflate. "Oh, I _do_ amaze myself, I do I do I do!" he enthused merrily.

"Excuse me," cut in Torpedo icily, tapping the Wizard on the shoulder, "but _when_ do I get my direction in life?"

The Wizard waved her off and discarded his sunglasses and lemonade under the hammock. "In just a moment. Wait here." He dashed back inside the green palace.

Torpedo walked over to the green marble fountain at the middle of the courtyard. She sat next to the others, who had been quietly watching the construction of the balloon with some interest.

"Well, are you going to get your direction in life soon?" the Lion asked her.

"Oh, I don't know," mumbled Torpedo into her hands. "I think there's something weird going on, but I can't quite put my finger on it..."

"Here I am!" cried the Wizard, reappearing in the courtyard lugging several suitcases and a tote bag. "Give me a hand with these...ah...'Magic Direction Finders,' would you, huh?"

Torpedo mutely helped the Wizard lift his luggage into the basket, then watched as he scrambled in himself.

"_Now_ can I have my direction in life?" she blurted.

"After you cut that rope," answered the Wizard, pointing to the line that tethered the now-full balloon to the ground.

"But then you'll fly away!" protested the Scarecrow.

The Tin Woodman glared at the stuffed man. "Oh, brilliant, Einstein! Now can you tell us the Meaning of Life?"

While the Scarecrow wracked his new brain on that one, Torpedo began untying the balloon.

"Oh, this _is_ exciting!" chortled the Wizard, his helmet's antennea bobbing. "Here we go!"

As the balloon began its ascent, Torpedo shouted up after it: "But what about my direction in life?"

And came the Wizard's voice back down to her: "Sucker!"

"You _cheat!_" screamed Torpedo, flailing her arms furiously.

The Scarecrow perked up. "I've got it!" he exclaimed, but no one would ever know what he had gotten, because at that very moment he was flattened to the ground in a flurry of straw by a sandbag the Wizard had just released.

"Well, there he goes," sighed the Tin Woodman as the Wizard's balloon floated out of sight.

The Lion dropped his tail. "Oh, Torpedo, we're sorry," he said. "What can you do now?"

"Well, I don't know why I should be dis helpful," called the Soldier With the Green Bill from behind a hedge. He stepped into view, wearing a pair of green overalls and holding a pair of green clippers. "...But dere is, ah, _one_ dame who might be able to help you out..."


	7. Chapter VII

_Chapter VII_

"You want us to take you _where?_"

Torpedo sighed. "This is my third and last request," she told the Monkey With the Golden Tie-Tack, "and all I want is for you to take me to someone named 'Glinda'--don't you know who she is?"

"Well, of course we know who she is!" snapped the Monkey. "She's the Good Witch of the South! Everybody knows that."

A sharp pain snapped through Torpedo's head. "Another witch! Why do I have all the luck? Oh, well, if she's the only one who can help me..." She turned to the Lion, Scarecrow, and Tin Woodman, who looked a little sad. "Well, I'm off," she said. "Good luck, I guess." She wondered briefly if she should be emotional, but she wouldn't have gotten the chance anyway, because just then the lead monkey siezed her arms, and, flapping his huge wings, he carried her in a southwardly direction.

On the ground, her former companions waved farewell.

Torpedo was furious. "You didn't let me say good-bye!" she fumed at the Monkey.

"Such is Life," answered the Monkey shortly, and Torpedo decided not to argue any more.

After about a half-hour of travelling, the tern felt that her arm-sockets must be getting tired (although she really couldn't feel her arms anymore anyways). Therefore she almost screamed for joy when they began gliding doown towards a pink and lavendar palace.

"It's lovely," remarked Torpedo sarcastically. "Actually, it looks sort of like a day-care center."

The Monkeys released Torpedo in the midsts of a topiary, then looked at her expectantly.

Torpedo frowned. "What do _you_ want, a tip?"

The lead monkey grimaced in annoyance. "We were _hoping_," he began, "that you might return the pearl necklace to us, so that no one could summon us again..."

"What?" cried Torpedo, severely taken aback. She took the necklace off of her ankle and clutched it protectively. "This trinket's going to land me a fortune at the Thieves' Guild! There is no _way_ I'm going to give it to _you_ monkey suits!"

The Flying Monkeys were too heated up to speak. They just turned on their tails and flapped up and away, and Torpedo never saw them again.

"Freeloaders," grunted the tern, dropping the pearl necklace into her apron pocket. She began to make her way around hedges shaped like bunnies, puppies, and playful kittens as she looked for an entrance to the palace.

"Some of these witches have common characteristics," she thought.

Finally she found a small button marked 'doorbell' next to a pink gate and pressed it. A little tinkling noise reached her ears, and the gate swung open.

Torpedo stepped into a sizable garden, filled with cascading waterfalls and prancing deer and swaying willow trees, and she honestly thought she would be sick.

She was also honestly tired of standing around admiring the scenery.

"Glinda!" Torpedo called. "Glinda the Good Witch! I need to speak with you!"

She was startled by a voice behind her.

"Well, I'm right _here_. You shouldn't shout like that."

Torpedo turned. "Oh," she cried, spying a racoon wearing a pink ballroom gown and rhinestone tiara, who had materialized in the low-lying branches of a tree. "There you are."

Glinda flicked her ringed tail. "What can I do to help you?" she asked calmly.

Torpedo wasn't so calm. "You've _got_ to help me," she told the Witch. "I need some direction in life...Got any lying around?"

Glinda paused, then tossed her long brown hair with a laugh. "Of course I do, dear. You've come to the right place, certainly."

"Well?"

"Well," continued Glinda, pressing her fingers together. "Are you ready?"

"Yes!"

"Sure?"

"_Yes!_"

"Get a day job!" screeched Glinda shrilly, then fixed her hair. "And there you have it."

Torpedo stood there for a moment in silence. "Well," she said at length, "I guess that could do it."

Glinda pulled a wand out from behind her back and waved it in the air over Torpedo's head. "Now for your departure," said the Witch sweetly. "I hope you've had a nice time...Now, take off those Birkenstorks."

Torpedo became defensive. "But the Good Witch of the North said I could keep them!" she protested.

"Oh she _did_, did she?" Glinda suddenly frosted over. "That North Witch! Always trying to set the rules! Doesn't she know I'm _much_ more powerful than she is? She's nothing but an overgrown--"

But Torpedo didn't catch that last insult, because while she was removing the Birkenstorks to avoid an argument, the spell was completed and she was sent back...

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

"Huh? What? Oh, what a migraine!" Torpedo sat up and glared at the book in front of her. "That's it! I knew I shouldn't have raided Quackerjack's private library! At least I'll turn a nice profit from _this_." She put her hand down to get the pearl necklace from her apron pocket, but not only was the necklace gone, but so was the pocket, and the apron, as she was dressed once again in her usual wetsuit. "What a royal gyp!" she exclaimed. "...I wonder what Maus is about."

* * *

_Torpedo is copyright © Sophie Dean. Persuasion is copyright © Cynthia "Sparky" Read. All other characters are copyright © Disney. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz was written by L. Frank Baum._

_Story copyright © 1992 by Cynthia "Sparky" Read _


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